


Jungle Drums

by firedup



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blood and Injury, Other, Violence, and a wee bit of Alliance bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedup/pseuds/firedup
Summary: They are the jungle, and the jungle is them.





	Jungle Drums

**Author's Note:**

> A tribute to trolls and to my guild that I've been meaning to do for quite a while. Features my old main character, takes place roughly at around Cata. Not for Alliance players ;)

_Boom. Boom._

 

The jungle is alive with the thrum of drumbeats, and so is he.

 

_Boom. Boom… boom._

 

They‘re his heartbeat. They‘re the rythm of his breathing, becoming the rythm of his footfalls, becoming the rythm with which his axes slash and tear, becoming the blood spattering into his face. He tastes it on his lips and grins, he‘s death whirling through the jungle this day.

 

_Boom… boom…. Boom._

 

They are death, on every side of him. They‘re the crash of blades on armor, the silky whispering of shadows. The ‚zip‘ of arrows and screeching of raptors. The roar of the tiger, the bellow of a bear, the rumble and crash of thunder, the crackling of fire. The sloow ooze and trickle of Voodoo.

 

They‘re the whoop of triumph, the cackle of laughter, the yell of fury- the cries of pain.

 

Their hair is blue shadows and a flash of sunlight, it‘s blood and grass. Their blood is jungle and forest, ice and sand, but their heartbeat is the drums.

 

_Boom boom boom BOOM._

 

The drums are the jungle. They are the jungle.

 

_Boom. Boom._

 

A worgen thinks to take him on, and he‘s good, oh yes. Duck and sidestep, and he‘s inside his range, inside his arms, the blade he wields is inside him and the worgen looks up in triumph, a snarling dog. On his tabard, the Loa of his tribe mirrors him, only that he‘s grinning; the jackal of mischief and mayhem and madness, and only a troll knows what that means, _really_  knows.

 

He moves forward, into the blade. There‘s pain, but what is pain? He is berserker, he is predator, and this dog is just a human in a wolf‘s pelt.

 

He lowers his head, tusks catch and tear, the blood pouring down his face. A wet snarl comes from his foe as he straightens, lifts him up, sharp tusk lodged in the soft underside of the wolf jaw, and then he whirls, shakes him off, and the worgen goes tumbling. The knife goes with him.

 

_Boom, boom._

 

He licks his lips, turns his head. His `Jin is there next to him, bloody crest of hair now an even deeper red. They share a grin.

 

„Kesh mon.“

 

„Bruddah.“

 

A hand claps him on the shoulder. „Honor to de Anduri.“

 

Rho‘kesh nods, his eyes rekindling with the heat of battle. „En Fuego.“

 

Together, they bear down on their foes. They are the jungle, and the jungle is them.

 

The jungle is _theirs_. 

 

_BOOM._

**Author's Note:**

> 'En Fuego' used to be a line from the WC3 troll npcs. My guild has adopted that one and still uses it heavily... together with a lot of more or less heavily mangled spanglish. It's just a guild thing ^^°


End file.
